WHYGARDEN sixty-two
My dream falls on Eden
The scent of grass and trees
And the shimmering light and shadow above the clouds
If a dream only has seven seconds of memory
Every second of mine is spring
As if those occasional fatalisms
Are all rewritten into spring verses
Each line covered in joy
A wind from the mountains pauses by the window
Clouds deliver the eleventh letter
Tender green sprouts emerge from the pages of a book
The air carries faint notes of freesia in bloom
Wind chimes brushing past the cheek
And the phone call you make
All are daydreams brought by spring
RECOMMEND · SPACES
WHYGARDEN
Time Well Wasted in Spring Light
If we never make time for the seemingly useless, how are we to spend our finite lives?
WHYGARDEN
Spring Stirs Above the Clouds
If noise is not your way of life, enjoy the quiet of answering only to yourself.
WHYGARDEN
In Conversation with the Wind of the Fifteenth Century
Where civilizations overlap, spring is filled with fragrance.
